The group in our window continued to keep an
embarrassed silence. Youre coughing more than you did yesterday, she accused him.
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Oh, and the fat one with the paper roses in her
hair. As Lizzie Hazeldean reached the door a curious change came over
her.
But as she advanced into the room her
self-possession returned.
Let your imagination strain itself a little.
Standing on the door-step with lifted veil, she faced our window. My cousin Kate,
who always imitated Aunt Sabina, was pinching my arm in an agony of
mirth.
I know that, maam, and so I reminded him. Youll
wear them in your dress this evening? Youll wear them in your dress this
evening?
The Parretts windows were full of people, was her
first thought.
The lady who was not in evening dress paused. But
under this external appearance of ease she was covered with cold beads of
sweat.
Hazeldean busied herself with the
tea-caddy.
My dear girl, it will take more than the Fifth
Avenue Hotel fire to kill ME. Grandmamma, of course, no longer
received.
Standing on the door-step with lifted veil, she
faced our window. What a baby you are to have stayed out so long, staring at smoke
and a fire-engine!
The group in our window continued to keep an
embarrassed silence.
Her husband had stretched himself out in the deep
armchair which was his habitual seat. Lizzie Hazeldean paused on the threshold and
looked about her.
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